Continuum's Fate
by ladygris
Summary: Sometimes, life really does move on. Tag to Stargate: Continuum.


**Disclaimer:** I own nothing related to Stargate: SG-1 or it's wonderful characters and plot lines. Any original characters and plot lines, however, are mine.

**Author's Note:** So, I can't say I know exactly where this came from. It was an idea that hit me at midnight or so and wouldn't let go. The story happens during the alternate time line created by Ba'al in the move "Continuum" and contains spoilers for that as well as "Emancipation," "Forever in a Day," "Window of Opportunity," "Meridian," "Fallen," "Beachhead," and "Bad Guys." There may be other spoilers that I didn't catch, so be warned. Also, the movie "Continuum" never said where our favorite characters were sent, so I used my imagination and set most of this in New York City. Also, I am not a medical professional. I did a bit of research on prosthetic limbs and based a lot of my understanding on that. I hope you'll be able to forgive any inconsistencies in that portion of the story. I should probably issue both a fluff and tissue warning in this one. As always, hope you enjoy! ~lg

oOo

"Daniel Jackson?"

The call brought Daniel's head up from the National Geographic magazine he'd been perusing. He set aside his reading material and reached for his crutches, struggling to his feet with only a slight grimace. As he moved toward the nurse, he caught the pitying glances sent his way. He understood. Every person in the waiting room was there to meet with a physical therapist. Only he was missing a limb.

With practiced ease, Daniel followed the nurse who had called his name into a patient room. He settled into the chair rather than struggling onto the examination table. He would have preferred to do this at the SGC, with Lam as his doctor. But he couldn't do that. Somehow, everything in this time line had changed, and he was stuck living a life he never wanted. The SGC didn't exist, not in the capacity he knew it should. Jack didn't even know him. And he had been forbidden from ever contacting the two people he still had in his life from his past.

Pushing those thoughts from his mind, he flipped through the basket of magazines provided. It contained tabloids and women's magazines. Not feeling like reading about the latest actor scandal or conspiracy theory, he folded his hands and began twiddling his thumbs. After all, what was the point in reading such things when he was one of the biggest conspiracy theories in the world? The Air Force hadn't known what to do with him or his team, so they'd done the same thing they did to every other threat they couldn't handle. They'd buried them. Being split up stung, and Daniel hated his current circumstances. Here he was, in a doctor's office, missing his leg and his life, while Ba'al was free to reign in the galaxy. The only other two people who could stop the inevitable were in California and Texas, respectively, and forbidden from contacting him.

Pulling his mind away from the ongoing drama that was his life, Daniel sighed. Upon arriving in New York City, he'd made an appointment with a prosthetist and physical therapist. The cover story for his amputation was an ice fishing accident. Jack's idea. Even in this time line, the colonel hadn't changed all that much. He still loved fishing, just like the Jack O'Neill Daniel had known. That Jack was dead, now, having died at the hands of Ba'al and in front of both Daniel and Sam. They had no idea where their Teal'c or Vala had gone, and the fate of his teammates weighed heavily on his mind.

Daniel heaved another sigh as the door opened. A pretty woman walked through, her clothing telling him she was the prosthetist. He straightened immediately and stilled his hands.

"Mr. Jackson?" she asked in a low voice. He would have classified it as sultry if not for the businesslike tone.

"Uh, _Dr._ Jackson," he corrected her. At her sharp glance, he shrugged. "Archeology and Anthropology." At least he'd been able to keep that portion of his identity, though the cover was that he'd retired after his accident.

The prosthetist smiled. "My apologies." She stuck out her hand. "Camille Bronson."

Daniel shook her hand with a firm grip of his own. "Nice to meet you."

"Likewise." She held his gaze with clear blue eyes. "I understand you're here to be fitted for a prosthetic limb and the physical therapy that goes along with it."

"Uh. . .yeah." He decided he liked her. She hadn't stumbled over his disability or given him a pitying look like so many others. "I've become accustomed to the crutches, and they're better than the wheelchair. But. . . ."

"You'd like a bit more freedom?" At his sheepish shrug, she wrote a quick note in his chart. "Well, this is certainly not an unusual situation, and I know from personal experience how tough the process can be. I'd like to set up an appointment at the therapy center to assess your physical condition, discuss your expectations for recovery, and take some initial measurements. The fitting process can take a while and be a bit painful, so there will be some physical therapy involved to help with that."

Daniel heard everything she said, but his mind latched on to one phrase. "Wait a minute." He lifted a finger to stop her from speaking. "Personal experience?"

"My brother." She met his eyes, not shying away in spite of the regret he saw there. "He was injured in a roadside bombing overseas and lost both of his legs."

"I'm sorry."

"Thank you." Her tone softened considerably. After a moment, she cleared her throat. "Will two days from now work for you?"

Daniel indicated that it would and, with a swiftness that he regretted, the appointment ended. As he made his way to the receptionist's desk to set up the next meeting, he sighed yet again. This appointment had been about his leg, one of the many things in his life that was a constant source of emotional pain. But, for the first time, that particular loss wasn't the problem. The future was, and he suddenly found himself looking forward to moving on from the day that everything changed.

oOo

Camille Bronson saw many patients over the course of a week. She was one of three physical therapists in her office, but the other two weren't prosthetists. Many people assumed that amputees simply attached their prosthetic limb and immediately started using it. But Camille knew the process of relearning to walk or use a hand could be both physically and emotionally painful. Many times, she felt part prosthetist, part physical therapist, and part psychologist. Her patients had a lot of bitterness and anger to overcome, as well as the inevitable self-esteem issues.

But Daniel Jackson was different. Camille watched him crutch over to her with a smile on his face. Bitterness did sometimes show in his eyes, as did anger. But the grief and hopelessness she saw broke her heart.

Pinning a smile on her face, she met him halfway. "Dr. Jackson, it's good to see you again."

"Just Daniel." He shrugged and gave her a shy smile. "I get the feeling we'll be spending a lot of time together."

"Then, I'm Camille." She led him to a private room for their conversation. Over the next hour, they talked. She learned the story of how his leg had slipped into sub-zero water on an ice fishing trip and how he'd been too far from help to save it. But there was a note of anger in his voice when he talked, something that rang a little false. He also seemed to have realistic expectations, wanting to walk on his own again but not getting his hopes up. He said a friend from way back had a father who lost both legs. This friend had told Daniel that it took his father a long time to walk again.

By the time she finished her assessment, Camille had a fairly good idea of who Daniel Jackson was. She didn't truly _know_ him, but his personality came out during their conversation. He was brilliant, and it showed in his questions. He didn't shy away from the difficult topics, nor did he volunteer too much information. And, somehow, he managed to surprise her with a quick wit that left her laughing with him. The embarrassing physical examination and measurements for his prosthesis went much more smoothly because he was able to poke fun at himself. She suspected that he was one of those rare individuals who made instant friends with someone and then just accepted that person into his life as if they'd been there all along.

After Daniel left the office that day, Camille sat down on the chair he'd occupied and just forced herself to breathe. The measurements of his body had allowed her to notice more than his wry grin and amazing blue eyes. The man was in incredible physical shape. She wondered if all archeologists had the muscle tone and upper body strength like that or if that was just Daniel. Either way, she'd been glad that she was a medical professional. It was the only thing that kept her from drooling over him as she legitimately ran a hand down his arm or back. For the first time in a long time, attraction for her patient attacked her and wouldn't allow her to forget about him when the day ended.

oOo

Daniel's instincts about Camille proved correct. By the end of their third appointment, he was firmly convinced that he could call her friend. They'd spent much of the time laughing with one another until the real work began. Then, she treated his injury as if it was just another fact of life instead of a life-altering event. Never mind that it really was a life-altering event.

Returning home that day, Daniel made a decision. He was lonely. This new life, this whole time line, could not have been more different or more wrong. He missed Mitchell and Sam terribly, especially Sam. While the two of them had never shared a strong romantic bond, the friendship he'd built with her surpassed anything that he'd ever experienced before. Those two were the only ones who could truly understand what he was going through. They were the only ones who knew how things should be.

Camille, however, was different. She was interested in who he was as a person, and she wasn't afraid to ask the difficult questions. She constantly pushed him forward, providing a listening ear when he was either too frustrated with his recovery or his entire situation to attempt to do the therapy exercises. He couldn't tell her everything about where he'd come from, but he did trust her enough to be open about how bitter his circumstances made him. Within a month, she had him trying on his first prosthetic leg and asked him about his job options now that he'd have his mobility back. Daniel hadn't wanted to answer that question because, frankly, he wanted his old job back. But he honestly admitted that he'd been considering applying for a position teaching archeology at Columbia University in the city of New York. It skirted the line of his agreement with the government, but Daniel didn't care. He wanted to move on but still have some involvement with archeology. Since he'd never lectured here nor had any connections to Columbia University, he felt he'd be okay.

He poured all of this out to Camille, leaving out the bits that were directly related to the Stargate Program. She listened patiently, letting him vent his frustrations and anger and doubts. By the time it ended, Daniel wanted to curl up somewhere and cry—not the first time he'd felt that way but certainly one of the most powerful. Camille had simply settled in the chair next to him and put her hand on his. He turned his arm and curled his fingers around hers, taking comfort in the simplicity of human contact. If it was appropriate for him to do so, he would have hugged her just so he could feel like he was making strides toward building something new.

That day, he noticed something different. Camille had always struck him as an attractive woman. She had thick black hair that she kept up in an elegant bun during their appointments. But her eyes were expressive, changing color based on her moods. When Daniel finished pouring his heart out to her, he'd glanced over to see more than compassion in her eyes. He'd seen tears, and it surprised him. She waved away his concern, saying it hit home considering her brother was also an amputee, but he appreciated how deeply she'd empathized. In that moment, he almost asked if she'd be willing to go for coffee sometime but stopped himself. She was his therapist and prosthetist. It would be inappropriate, not to mention cliché, for him to ask her on a date. Pushing aside his own disappointment at that, he bid her good day and left the center, leaning heavily on the cane she'd provided. It felt good to walk again, even if he had to consciously think about every step, and he hailed a cab as he wondered if he had any hope of ever feeling alive and whole again.

oOo

After Daniel left that fateful afternoon, Camille locked herself in her office. She'd taken to scheduling Daniel's appointments for the end of the day, enabling her to spend more time with him while they talked. This time, however, she needed to recover from the full impact of his emotions. Daniel had never been a very expressive person in the time she'd known him, so to have him just open his heart to her about his doubts for the future and his pain over the past had overwhelmed her. He'd spoken passionately, motioning wildly with his hands as he so eloquently expressed his frustrations. The fire in his eyes as he spoke about the new position teaching at Columbia University told her how much he loved his work as an archeologist, and Camille found herself drawn into his personal drama.

It should never have happened. She told herself that as she yanked the pins from her hair. It fell around her shoulders as she tried to bring her imagination and emotions back under control. Daniel was a patient, and, while she shared a level of friendship with all of her patients, he should not mean so much to her. But she'd been incredibly attracted to him from the very first day, and his tirade had only deepened her emotions. For just a moment, she thought she might cry for him since he seemed so intent on bottling up his emotions after letting himself vent. He'd caught her with tears in her eyes, too. Camille should have been mortified if not for the way he looked at her. He'd really looked at her, not just at how she appeared or the role she filled in his life. It had felt like he wanted to see into her heart and uncover the kind of woman she really was.

Deciding she was getting nowhere, she gathered her belongings and went home, determined to put Daniel Jackson out of her mind. She managed to succeed to a small extent until the next week, when he again appeared for his appointment.

Over the next three months, Camille alternately fought with her feelings for Daniel and her professional obligations. The attraction she'd felt for him blossomed into much more as they became closer friends. She found herself thrilled enough to hug him when he told her he'd been given the teaching position at the university, and he'd laughed as he returned the hug. Things didn't get awkward between them, much to Camille's relief, and he waved when he said goodbye that day.

Still, she was unprepared for the change in her life when it came. Daniel had arrived for his final appointment with her. She would still work with him over the next few years, but he'd adjusted to wearing his prosthetic leg quite well. The cane he now used was one of those fancy affairs, something he wryly said he'd found at a garage sale and just had to have. Camille thought it fit him perfectly and wasn't the least bit put off by what would likely be a permanent limp. Through the appointment, they chatted about this and that, always coming back to the subject at hand with regretful expressions.

Then, as Camille brought everything to a close and stood on her side of the desk, Daniel startled her. She'd offered her hand, intending to share a businesslike shake like she did with all her patients. Daniel caught her hand and, while holding it in place, looked directly into her eyes. "Would you like to join me for coffee sometime?"

Camille forced herself to breathe. She was nearly forty, a woman who had lived and dated for years. But none of the other men had been as special as Daniel was. For the first time, she realized she loved him and wanted nothing more than to see what they had. A smile tugged at her lips even as she felt her cheeks heat. "I'd love to, Daniel."

A full-blown smile, something she'd rarely seen him wear, blossomed as he let go of her hand. "Good!" For just a moment, he looked like he'd expected her to say no. "Um. . .just let me know what time works for you."

"How about now?" She shrugged. "You're my last appointment for the day, and I could use a cup of coffee."

His smile softened and became much more personal. "That sounds good. There's a coffee shop down the street. Sacred Grounds?"

Camille grinned. "I know the place. They have the best quiche around."

"I'll meet you there in half an hour?"

"I'll be there." Camille watched him walk out of her office and shook her head. She'd shared coffee with men before, but she suspected this would be so much more. Excitement welled up inside of her, and she whispered a prayer that she wouldn't thoroughly embarrass herself. Slipping into the bathroom, she yanked her hair out of its bun, fluffed it a bit, and added a new coat of lip gloss. It was the best she could do under the circumstances. With her heart pounding, she locked up her office and walked the short distance to Sacred Grounds. This day felt like the beginning of something wonderful.

oOo

Daniel sat at a table for two at Sacred Grounds, his eyes on the front door as he waited for Camille to appear. The invitation for coffee was an impulse, one that he'd not seen coming. He simply couldn't bear the thought that his only friend in the city would no longer be in his life. He'd lost too many friends in recent years, and he liked Camille. He liked her a lot more than he should have.

She appeared a moment later, and Daniel forced himself to breathe. She'd let her hair out of its thick bun, and it fell around her shoulders and to her waist in soft waves. Unlike Vala's hair, which always seemed to have a life of its own, Camille's was sleek and shiny. It softened her face, made her eyes more noticeable, and heightened her femininity. Not for the first time, Daniel reminded himself that he'd promised not to become romantically involved. He never knew when he'd get the chance to change the time line back to the way it should be.

Camille greeted him with a smile, and they ordered their evening meal. Daniel had soup while she polished off a piece of quiche that looked too rich for its own good. He watched as she enjoyed every bite, surprised to realize that she had no idea of the effect she had on him. With Vala, every move was meant to draw attention. With Camille, every move drew attention by its elegance and obliviousness to the effect on the male gender.

Conversation flowed between the two of them, and Daniel found himself asking questions he would never have asked of his therapist. They ranged into the personal, and he found himself telling her about Sha're. Of course, Sha're's true origins could never be discussed, but Camille listened intently as he shared several humorous stories about his time on Abydos. She even giggled a bit when he recounted his attempt to surprise Sha're with dinner on their first anniversary. It hadn't gone well, and they'd wound up laughing at his pathetic results well into the night.

"Thankfully, I'm a much better cook now than I was then," he added wryly.

Camille smirked. "Yeah, about the only cooking I do is warming up soup from a can. I'm honestly pitiful in the kitchen. I even burned water one day."

Daniel blinked. "There's gotta be a story behind that."

"There was." She went on to tell him how she had left water to boil in a pan while answering the door of her apartment. She'd stepped outside to visit with her elderly neighbor and, forgetting she had water boiling, stepped inside the other woman's house to help with something. By the time she returned home, the pan had burned for so long that a small flame had caught from the heat. She shook her head. "I think I'm better off staying away from the kitchen."

After laughing for the next few minutes, their conversation moved on to her elderly neighbor. Daniel found himself fascinated with her now that they were outside of the office. Camille was a brilliant prosthetist and therapist, one who sought to treat her patients' physical needs as well as their emotional anguish. He'd even been subject to her healing touch before and found himself more attracted than he'd thought possible. But that night, in the coffee shop, she showed a mischievous side, one that made her eyes sparkle and a smirk cover her features. When he asked what she was thinking, she simply told him that, if they continued seeing each other, he might find out one day.

Daniel was still grinning over that comment when he finally returned home. He locked himself into his apartment and, settling on his bed, took off his prosthesis. He had papers to grade, lesson plans to do, and plenty of other stuff to hold his attention. Instead, he logged onto the Internet and opened up his email, intent on letting the glow of his impromptu date with Camille linger. He blinked at the email waiting for him.

_From Simarka._ Daniel frowned. That was an unusual tag line, especially since it conjured up memories from ten years ago. He opened the email and felt his eyebrows touch his hairline as he read the contents. He'd been invited to join an online community for college professors who sought to make a difference in their world. But the wording was familiar, several phrases catching his attention and making his smile widen. He choked on the water he'd sipped when, toward the end of the email, it commented on anthropologists and eating head dresses. _Daniel, find me an anthropologist that dresses like this, and I will eat this head dress._ The actual comment, along with Sam's indignation, floated through his head. Confident that it really was Sam, he clicked the link for the website.

As soon as he logged on, a pop-up screen showed that someone was trying to chat with him. He frowned. Simarka, the online persona, had clearly been watching. _Daniel?_

_Yeah, it's me._ He hesitated for a moment. _Sam?_

_Guess they didn't expect me to set up my own website, huh?_

_No, I guess not._ Daniel hesitated for a moment. _What am I called here?_

_Arrom._

Daniel laughed out loud. Only Sam would dare to use that moniker for his screen name, which meant "naked one" to the people who had watched over him after he'd descended and lost his memories. _Thanks a bunch. I appreciate it._

_I can tell. I'm hoping Shaft shows up soon._

Daniel didn't even have to ask who Shaft was. _I take it he got an email from you as well?_

_Yep._ After a pause, another question popped up on his screen. _So, how are you?_

The cursor blinked, daring Daniel to answer. How did he respond? The last time he'd seen Sam, he was confined to a wheelchair and just learning to use his crutches. It had torn his heart out to say goodbye to her and Mitchell, knowing that they might never see one another again. _I'm good._

_How's your leg?_

_Better._ Daniel let a smile return to his face, one that he was grateful that Sam couldn't see. _I had a good therapist._

_Had?_

_Yeah. I had my last appointment today._

_I'm glad._

_Me, too._ He shrugged and figured he might as well put it all on the line. _We went for coffee afterward, and she agreed to dinner in two days._

_You're dating?_

_Yeah, I guess I am._

_Daniel, that's wonderful!_

_I hope so._ He sighed. _God, I miss you._

_I miss you, too._

A moment later, "Shaft" logged on, and Sam shared the same friendly greeting with him. The trio chatted for another two hours, each one catching up on what was happening in the other's lives. He learned that Sam was working at a bank as a branch manager, something so totally different from her passion in astrophysics that Daniel knew she wasn't happy. Cam hadn't taken a job, choosing to live off of the monthly stipend the military provided for him. Finally, promising to set up an email and send it off to "Simarka," Daniel logged out and went to bed. He stared at the ceiling as he thought about the events of that day. A coffee date with Camille, reconnecting with Mitchell and Sam, and the hope that his life might actually turn out okay. . . .It was the best he could hope for at this time.

oOo

Dinner with Daniel went fantastically well. He chose a small restaurant with an old-world Italian vibe that served the best fettuccine in the city. Camille had smiled when he picked her up from her apartment and kept that smile on her face the entire evening. Daniel was charming and funny, telling her that he'd reconnected with an old friend that week. As they ate, the nerves about their first official date faded. By the time he walked her to her door, Camille couldn't wait to see him again.

Thus began their relationship. Camille figured out fairly quickly that Daniel wasn't the type to move into physical intimacy too quickly. She understood. As a widower, he had lost more than she'd ever known in the arena of romantic relationships. She wished he'd at least kiss her goodnight but refused to comment on it. When he invited her over to his place for dinner about six weeks later, though, she decided that she would take matters into her own hands.

Camille smiled when Daniel answered the door wearing a button-down shirt and slacks. He looked very scholarly in the outfit, and she admitted that he was the hottest professor she'd ever seen. He welcomed her into his apartment, which surprised her. His style was eclectic but somehow went together. Various pieces of pottery littered the shelves, statues from different cultures sat here and there, and a wonderful warmth permeated the place. He served a dish from Egypt, one that Camille thoroughly enjoyed, and they sat at his small dining table as they talked for a long time. After they finished eating, he brought out dessert, which turned out to be mint tea and baklava. Camille smirked and told him that he deserved a kiss for that since baklava was her favorite treat. Daniel held her gaze with a fierce one of his own, almost daring her to make a move.

He sobered a moment later. "There's something I wanted to ask you."

Sensing the change in his demeanor, Camille set down her tea cup. "What's on your mind?"

"What would you do if you had a younger colleague who made a fool of herself to the medical community but you happened to know she was right?"

She blinked. That wasn't the question she'd expected. "I'm not sure." She took a moment to truly think about the ramifications. "I like to think I'd support her, encourage her to keep going in her research and not give up. I'd want to see her succeed but. . . .Daniel, that's a sticky subject. It could backfire on me, and I'm not talking professionally. If you haven't figured things out yet, I'm a very involved person when it comes to friendships."

He nodded, taking her hand and rubbing his thumb over the back of her knuckles. "Thanks," he said quietly. "That's the answer I needed."

"What is this about?"

"Um. . .a young archeologist made some claims a while back, claims that I think are valid, but the archeological community scoffed at him. I wanted to. . .help, somehow." He met her eyes. "Thanks for being here."

"Daniel, where else would I be?"

A haunted expression came over his face, and he shook his head. "I don't know. I guess I've just had a lot on my mind with this other guy. He reminds me so much of myself at that age."

Camille wanted to question him about the brief flash of grief she'd seen, but she wasn't able to bring herself to that point. No matter how far her relationship with Daniel went, she knew he would always carry some pain that she would never fully understand. The loss of his leg was one, as was the loss of his wife. "If it'll help, I'm willing to listen any time you need to talk."

A smile touched his features. "I know."

A short time later, Camille stood at the door, facing him and wondering if she should just leave instead of forcing her way. Daniel seemed pensive, not at all in the mood to be pushed like she had a habit of pushing. He stared at her for a moment and then, surprising her, leaned in for that goodnight kiss she'd dreamed about for weeks.

Camille sighed as she stepped into Daniel's arms. There was a passion restrained in him, one that could easily get out of control if they let it. The kiss seemed to go on, robbing her of the ability to think clearly. He was definitely _not_ your average archeologist and professor! When he pulled away, his eyes were as dilated as hers, and Camille worked to keep herself from collapsing right then and there from the impact of it all. He ran his fingertips down her cheek as he stared into her eyes and, slowly, kissed her a second time. The second kiss was softer, gentler, and no less powerful. By the time Camille did slip out of his apartment seven minutes later, she could barely breathe. Taking the moment to lean against the wall and regain control of her heart, she grinned. Somewhere along the way, she'd managed to fall completely in love with Daniel Jackson. And she liked how bright the future looked.

oOo

Late that evening, Daniel sat on his bed with the book he'd bought that day next to him. _The Truth about the Pyramids_ by Daniel Jackson was something he'd considered writing when he was younger. It had him suffering a bout of homesickness, the result of remembering just how right he actually was. His conversation with Camille came back to him as he stared at the book's cover. A bit of research on the Internet gave him what he wanted to know, and he dialed an international number with no thought of what it would cost. If he could influence this time line's Daniel Jackson into not giving up, he might be able to accomplish some good.

Sadly, he failed in his attempt. Disheartened, he closed the cell phone and tossed it on his bedside table. He'd tried. But, like many other times in his life, he just didn't have what he needed to succeed. Not really wanting to go to bed, he logged in to Sam's website hoping she would be awake.

She was. _Hey, Arrom!_

_Simarka._ Daniel grinned at the thought that they now used one another's screen names as a way to avoid detection. _How are you?_

_Good. And you?_

Daniel thought for a moment, his disappointment at not reaching his doppelganger fading as he remembered the end of his date with Camille. _Really good. Had a wonderful time tonight._

_You and Camille?_

_Yeah._ He paused, about to reveal something to Sam that he hadn't really let himself consider. _I haven't felt this way about a woman in a very long time._

_You love her, don't you?_

_Yeah, I think I do._ He drew in a deep breath and let it out. _I never expected it to happen. She was just my physical therapist and prosthetist. But, there was this connection, this sense that she really understood what I was going through. I guess I liked that, and I enjoyed being able to be real with her._

_I'm glad, Daniel._ Sam's use of his given name told him how happy she really was. _I wish I could meet her._

_Me, too._ Had he been on the phone with Sam, she would have heard the smile in his voice and been able to guess the truth. He loved Camille as much as he had once loved Sha're. _Maybe I'll be able to get a picture for you._

_One of the two of you would be great._

_I'll see what I can do._

Daniel logged off a few moments later after saying goodnight. While chatting via instant messaging wasn't the same as spending hours with Sam and Mitchell in the same room, it let him connect in a way that he'd missed when the government split up the three of them. Tonight, after his sudden revelation about Camille, he'd needed to touch base with his former life.

Like he'd told Sam, he really loved Camille. The actual process of falling for her had been slow. They'd known each other for nearly a year. It had been earlier that day, when he'd considered asking Camille about whether he should call his doppelganger, that he came to understand his emotions. The revelation had been so surprising that he'd paused in his dinner preparations while he absorbed the truth. Somewhere along the way, he'd figured out that he could love again. And he'd found a wonderful woman with whom to share that love.

oOo

The next few months passed quickly for Daniel. He spent his days teaching at Columbia University while he dreamed of what the future might hold for him. Life moved on, and he built one away from the Stargate Program that had defined him for so many years. Camille made that a possibility, often brightening his day with texts or emails while she was at work. Daniel held off on physical intimacy with her, saying that he wanted their first time together to be special.

And it was. He was close to purchasing a ring for her, already knowing that he wanted to spend the remainder of his life with her. But Camille had expressed some hesitations about a life-long commitment the last time they spoke. It had hurt to know that she wasn't ready for that, but he resolved to wait. They shared their moments when disagreements could have destroyed what they'd built together, but the person in the wrong always wound up making amends before too much time could pass. Daniel felt as if he'd bonded with her during those months, and he often told Sam and Mitchell the little things going on in his life.

His friends also seemed to settle into their new reality, though neither of them found the contentment Daniel did. Sam's job at the bank passed quickly, her focus turning toward a book she was writing. Since she lived more or less on a military stipend, she spent hours crafting a lengthy novel about her time in the Stargate Program. Certain things were changed, but Daniel looked forward to editing each chapter for her. It was fun to see their adventures written down for all to read. Mitchell often complained about his neighbor, stating the woman was trouble from day one. Daniel grinned at that, knowing the pilot was likely attracted to the single mother but had no desire to remain in this time line. None of them did, and they often discussed what they would do if, God forbid, the Goa'uld ever found Earth.

It was a rare night when Daniel was alone that his phone rang. Camille was away at a medical conference, planning to return in the wee hours of the morning. He sat up, listened to Sam asking about a television, and learned that his world had just changed.

oOo

Long before she wanted to be awake, Camille started coffee in her kitchen. It felt odd to be in this apartment, something she'd insisted on maintaining in spite of her frequent conversations with Daniel about the possibility of marriage. The two of them had built an amazing relationship, one that she wanted to see continue until both of them were old and gray. Daniel was the most amazing man she'd ever known, and she loved him fiercely. She had even handed his care over to a fellow prosthetist so that she could pursue their relationship, wanting to keep everything above board in case they did decide to marry.

Was marriage what she wanted? Camille blinked owlishly at her coffee pot. Of all the times to think about this, she chose the moment when she was most tired. She had attended a three day medical conference in Chicago and had barely returned home at two in the morning. Unfortunately, as she'd fallen into bed, she understood that she wouldn't sleep at all. Daniel wasn't there to welcome her with that wonderfully sleepy voice of his and a quick kiss on the temple before he drifted back to dreamland. She'd wound up hugging a pillow and thinking that a part of her was missing. It always was when he wasn't around.

A knock at the door drew her out of her thoughts. Camille padded across her small living room and answered it, surprised to see Daniel waiting there. Something had changed, however. His eyes were sad, almost as if he was saying goodbye. She wasn't able to stop the single word that escaped. "No."

He took her face in both hands and kissed her. It was a kiss filled with passion, one that conveyed everything he felt for her. "I have to leave," he said quietly when he pulled back.

Tears welled up in Camille's eyes. "I know." She shook her head. "Daniel. . . ."

He silenced her with a finger on her lips. "I'll be back. I've got to take care of some business, but I'll come back for you."

"Promise?"

"To the best of my ability."

She knew then that he was leaving on a dangerous mission. "What's wrong, Daniel?"

His eyes narrowed, though not in anger. "I can't say. But I promise that I'll do everything in my power to come back here and find you."

So, this was the single unknown in Daniel's life. It was the reason she'd hesitated to give him a response whenever they talked about marriage. He had a part of him that he held in reserve, something he said was related to a top secret government project and he could not discuss with her. At this point in time, none of that mattered. Camille clung to him, trying to be strong but so afraid that the expression in his eyes would prove to be true. He knew he could die on this trip, and he wasn't afraid to face that death. Pulling his head down, she kissed him with everything in her. "When you come back, Daniel, you better be ready to be stuck with me."

He searched her face, her message received clearly if the smile that bloomed was any indication. "You're sure?"

"Absolutely." She put her palm on his cheek. "Daniel, I know you haven't officially asked. But I love you. When you get back—because you will—I'll happily marry you."

He crushed her to his chest in a heartbreaking kiss, one that Camille would never forget. Then, way too soon, he slipped out the door. She moved to a window, coffee forgotten, and wept as he climbed into a taxi and disappeared from her life.

oOo

Hours later, as he fought Qetesh's Jaffa, Daniel realized something. He wasn't going to be able to fulfill his promise to Camille. Sam was dead, already killed by overwhelming fire. A staff weapon hit his chest, and he stumbled backward as the wormhole formed in the Stargate. He hoped Mitchell made it through and, in those few seconds before falling to his death, he pictured Camille's face.

_I'm so sorry. I love you._

oOo

**Earth, the SGC, "our" time line. . . .**

The final Ba'al clone was dead, killed by the Tok'ra in an anticlimactic end to the reign of the Goa'uld. Daniel couldn't help but feel some level of apathy as he and his team, minus Vala, made their way back to Earth. General Landry greeted them and, after debriefing about the rather uneventful mission, let them get ready to head home. That's when Jack decided to take all of them to lunch. Figuring he could do far worse than spending an afternoon with his closest friends, Daniel drove to the restaurant Jack had chosen.

The lunch meal went about as Daniel expected. He and the rest of SG-1, both past and present members, laughed, talked, and reminisced about old times. Daniel missed having Jack around. He missed the danger and excitement of missions when they were fighting the Goa'uld or the Ori. Oh, there had been losses along the way. Out of the group gathered, he'd probably died the most times. And he'd lost his wife, not to mention numerous friends, to their various enemies. But there were good moments in there, as well. He laughed with Jack as they razzed Sam about the head dress she'd threatened to eat on Simarka. Teal'c even snickered a time or two as Jack finally opened up about some of the absolutely insane pranks they'd pulled while trapped in the time loop. And Mitchell managed to thoroughly embarrass Daniel by telling how badly he'd handed that "hostage situation" when the team gated to a museum in the middle of a party.

By mid-afternoon, the group had moved away from their table. Jack and Sam were currently wiping the pool table with anyone dumb enough to place a bet, and Mitchell had lured Teal'c into a game of darts. Feeling somewhat left out, Daniel made his way to the bar. He ordered a drink and waited while the barkeep poured it. He rarely drank, but today's victory over Ba'al needed some commemoration.

The woman next to his stool turned and gave him a piercing smile. Daniel stared at her, overcome with a feeling of deja vu, as she met his eyes with a clear blue gaze. She swiveled on her stool. "Celebrating something?" she asked when he received his drink.

"Um. . .yeah." For just a moment, he let himself absorb her appearance. Sleek black hair with a bit of a wave fell to her waist, and her voice was low, sultry, and oh-so-familiar. "Do I know you?"

"No." She waved a hand. "I'm new to Colorado Springs. Just got a new job here."

"Oh yeah?" He eyed her. "What, exactly, is it you do?"

She shrugged. "I'm a physical therapist and prosthetist. You?"

"Archeology."

She laughed. "What on Earth would an archeologist be doing in Colorado Springs?"

"I live here," Daniel said dryly. "So, have you settled in a bit?"

"Getting there."

They went on to visit for the next hour, Daniel feeling almost as if he knew her. He couldn't shake the feeling that, in another lifetime, perhaps, he'd met this woman before. Could it have been one of his many trips to an alternate reality? One where he didn't even realize he'd met her? By the time he left that evening, he was kicking himself for never getting her name. They'd sat and talked for a long time, and he knew she was one of those rare people with whom he instantly connected. It was as if they'd known one another for years.

Two days later, Daniel strode into the infirmary looking for Mitchell. The pilot had let slip the other day that he and Lam had been dating secretly for a few months, something Daniel had already figured out. Right now, however, he needed Mitchell's opinion on something and hadn't been able to get him on the phone.

"Dr. Jackson?" The low voice was familiar.

Daniel turned, an instant smile coming to his face when he recognized the woman from the restaurant. "Hey!" Then, he frowned. "_This_ is the new job?"

"It is." She dimpled, and the sight of that smile took his breath away. "I wasn't certain how much we could discuss in public, and I didn't want to spook you."

"Yeah, good idea." Daniel decided he could wait a few more moments before finding Mitchell. He leaned against the bed as he slipped his hands in his pockets. "So, physical therapist for the Stargate Program. Not bad."

"I agree." She shrugged. "But, based on your experiences on SG-1, I'm sure I don't have to tell you how badly needed a physical therapist is in this place."

"No, you don't. I've needed one more times than I care to admit." He frowned slightly and then met her eyes. "I didn't catch your name the other day."

"Because I never gave it." She smirked, making him feel as if she had plans for him. "I'm Camille. Camille Bronson. It's nice to meet you."

~The End~

**Author's Note II:** There may be two more chapters to this coming, provided I come up with what kept Sam and Mitchell occupied during their year in the alternate timeline. As always, hope you enjoyed this one! ~lg


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